In the Red
by LOVEZINKSY
Summary: It wasn't supposed to be a couples costume scenario, but leave it to Kirishima to screw the simplest things up entirely. ONESHOT.


crossposted from my ao3 account (**Hotel_Denouement**); originally posted 10/31/2017

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"I was—" A wheeze of laughter. "I got caught up in my own hero name! I clicked the wrong thing!"

"Red Ri—oh, _Crimson Riot_, you idiot!" Kaminari's voice rocketed through three octaves as he cackled, sounding near tears.

"Yeah, I realize _now!_" Kirishima laughed too, despite being the one Kaminari and Sero were making fun of. "I can't believe—I went through so many steps to get—"

"The number of opportunities you had to figure out there was _something wrong_—"

"It shows you the image the _whole way_—"

"Got all the way to 'confirm purchase' and you were like yes, this is what I want—"

"_Still_ didn't even—Kirishima, you _moron—_"

"Shut up! I'm gonna pee my pants—"

"You fucked up like twelve times in a row to get to this point—"

"I know!"

Bakugo banged his fist on the wall separating his and Kirishima's rooms, incensed. "_SHUT THE FUCK UP OVER THERE!_"

Someone in Kirishima's room banged on the wall in return. Sero's voice came through: "Bakugo, get over here and see what Kirishima's dumb ass ordered for his Halloween costume!"

Bakugo huffed and ignored the invitation, returning his attention to himself in the mirror. It was an okay costume he had on, he guessed. This whole thing was stupid, but at least there was no way Midnight would accuse him of half-assing his costume. He pulled the wolf head up over his own and straightened the pelt across his shoulders, eye twitching as the boys next door continued to make a racket.

"Does it actually fit?"

"Oh my God, go put it on!"

There was more laughter and banging noises as the door to Kirishima's bathroom slammed. Bakugo would be lying if he said he wasn't at least a little curious to see what was so goddamn funny next door. Obviously Kirishima, in typical Hair-for-Brains fashion, had fucked something up when ordering his Halloween costume, or whatever. He'd been chewing on his fingernails all yesterday and the day before that, fretting because whatever he ordered hadn't arrived yet. It had come in the mail today, and tonight was the volunteer Halloween patrol. It was too late to do anything about his costume now, so whatever he'd screwed up, he'd have to deal with it or forfeit Midnight's extra-extra credit. Bakugo snorted derisively, and sneered at his reflection. He looked positively savage like that—not a bad look, even if this shit was stupid.

Extra-extra credit. That was what Midnight was offering them. The hero classes got service hours for taking on volunteer patrols once they'd all gotten their provisional licenses; Bakugo had pounced on these patrols as soon as he could, since he had gotten his license at the start of their second year when everybody else had gotten theirs during first year, fuck. Holiday patrols provided them, on top of service hours, extra credit that went towards their grades.

"Extra-extra credit," Midnight had said, leering at them from the front of the classroom with her hip jutting out just so, "if this patrol is done in costume."

That four-eyed speed freak Iida's hand was, predictably, in the air at once. "Sensei, we already do our patrols in our hero costumes!"

Midnight laughed, narrowing her eyes at him, and bit her pinky nail provocatively in a way that forced Bakugo to roll his entire head around, so pronounced was his eye-roll. "Not your hero costumes—_Halloween _costumes."

Dressing up in a Halloween costume was not a requirement for this particular patrol, so wearing one's hero costume would have been perfectly acceptable, Midnight had clarified. Still. _Still_. Bakugo had seethed as he wasted precious minutes on deciding what to dress up as. What was he supposed to do? Not accept extra-extra credit with his service hours? Fuck that.

So there he was, decided on dressing up as a wolf or whatever, but not in an embarrassing furry type way. He had to get a little creative with how he wanted to do it, so he settled on purple cutoffs and a faux wolf pelt headdress he had found at a weird little oddities shop. He had asked the shop owner if it was a real pelt, partially because if it was then he probably couldn't afford it and partially because he was pretty sure he read somewhere that wolves are endangered or some shit like that. It wasn't real though, so he managed to haggle and bully the price down to ¥7000 by insisting the thing was shit tier butt ugly, and he walked out with an actually kind of decent-looking but completely stupid Halloween costume that he would never even glance at again once this fucking thing was over.

Well, there it was. He was dressed up. Nothing else for him to do but grit his teeth, resign himself to _the _most useless-ass hero patrol ever, and step outside his room to see what the _hell _was so pants-pissingly hilarious about Kirishima's costume. Tiny seedlings of self-consciousness about being seen dressed like this by his classmates sprouted half-heartedly in the back of Bakugo's head when he touched the doorknob, but he took a trowel to those thoughts and viciously uprooted them. He didn't care what they thought, and anyway, they were all going to look infinitely more idiotic than he was. He flung his door open angrily and stomped into the hallway.

Kaminari and Sero were huddled up in the hall outside Kirishima's open door, giggling like schoolgirls. Pathetic. Kaminari was in some sort of Devil getup, technically dressed nicely in a red button-down/vest combo with pressed black trousers, but with demon horns on his head and leathery wings on his back, and leaning on a prissy pitchfork as he snickered. Sero had gone with a zipper face makeup thing, which looked okay—probably followed some super in-depth step-by-step tutorial video that came with the makeup kit because he was too dumb to pull off the look without help. Bakugo's costume was the only respectable DIY deal of the bunch.

"Not gonna be Pikachu, Pikachu?" Bakugo grumped by way of greeting.

"Thought about it, but nah," Kaminari said, dabbing tears from the corners of his eyes with his shirt cuffs.

Sero raised his phone and aimed it into Kirishima's room, ready to snap photos whenever he came out. As an afterthought, he smiled and nodded at Bakugo, "Sick costume," to which Bakugo just went "_tch_" and crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe, because yeah, he _knew _his costume was sick. Didn't need anyone to tell _him_.

A laugh came from Kirishima's bathroom. "It fits! Hahaha! Wait, I gotta zip it—can't reach—oh, nope, I got it!"

His bathroom door flew open, and in a flurry of red, Kirishima jumped out. Bakugo slipped off the doorframe and cracked his head against it. Sero took a picture of Kirishima just in time before he and Kaminari collapsed in on themselves, doubling over in their mirth, because Kirishima was wearing a dress.

It wasn't a regular dress that regular people wore (although, if pressed, Bakugo wouldn't know how to describe a regular dress either)—it was one of those Lolita things, the ones with all the lace and the frills and the petticoats and shit. The skirt ballooned outwards, the puff providing the illusion of a decent length, but it still stopped several terrible inches above Kirishima's knees. The whole thing was a blinding shade of red that matched his stupid hair, red dress and red hooded cape, but it had a bright white apron edged with lace. Kirishima's stupid laughing face was red too, his whole fucking outfit a smear of red, a splatter of blood, which is what Bakugo wanted to reduce him to. These three idiots thought this was funny, but Bakugo was furious.

"What in the mother FUCK are you wearing, Shitty Hair?!" he spluttered.

"I meant to order a Crimson Riot costume!" Kirishima rubbed the back of his neck, smiling with infuriatingly good sportsmanship, like accidentally buying a dress and then putting it on for God and everybody to see was embarrassing but not the _most _embarrassing thing to have ever happened to him, which it should have been.

"And you fucked that up so bad that you wound up with a fucking Little Red Riding Hood outfit?" Bakugo immediately regretted saying the stupid name in English because it was a tongue-twister and he stumbled badly over it. "Take that shit off! Have some fucking self respect!"

Kirishima's answering grin, all jagged white teeth and roguish, made Bakugo's stomach clench hard. He wanted to burn the building to the ground with everyone inside it.

"My self respect is off the charts, dude," Kirishima countered. He smoothed out his apron. "And it's too late to do anything about it now! Looks like Red Riot is Red Riding Hood for the night!"

"For fuck's sake, just patrol in your hero costume!" Bakugo fumed.

"And not get that extra-extra credit? No way!" He stood with his fists planted on his hips in that ridiculous "manly" pose or what the fuck ever he always stood in when he was determined. Bakugo hated that he noticed this about him, and hated how that pose combined with a FUCKING Lolita Little Red Riding Hood dress didn't exactly ruin the effect, just made it kind of weird. "You don't think Midnight will say it's not allowed, do you? She won't take away the extra-extra credit?"

"Are you kidding me?" Bakugo snapped. "She's a creep, she'll probably just want to fuck you in that."

Kirishima, whose cheeks had gotten less pink since coming out in costume, immediately went scarlet from neck to hairline, laughing and flustered, and tugged on the hem of his skirt, apparently hyperaware now of how much thigh it revealed. Bakugo was too, and wanted to kick him. Kaminari and Sero, fully on the floor laughing at this point, howled with renewed vigor at Bakugo's response.

"_Oiii_, Bakugo!" Kaminari jeered from the carpet. "Kirishima's fuckable in that dress to you, huh?"

"_THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?_" Bakugo leapt at him, enraged, his palms alight. Kaminari dodged and sprang to his feet to duck behind Kirishima, who Hardened and grabbed at Bakugo's arms, taking the brunt of his Quirk.

"Come on, you guys, chill out!" he hollered over the noise, still flushed and laughing. "We gotta get downstairs and meet at the school gates before everybody leaves us behind."

"Watch your fucking back, Pikachu," Bakugo spat, jabbing a smoking finger at Kaminari over Kirishima's shoulder. "I'll fucking kill you."

Kirishima brought both hands up to push firmly on Bakugo's chest. Sero's camera shutter noise went off again as he took an upskirt photo of Kirishima from the floor. Kirishima kicked at him in playful outrage as laughter filled the hallway again, but Sero rolled out of the way; all the kick did was expose more leg without a glimpse of boxer shorts, and suddenly Bakugo decidedly did _not _want Kirishima's hands on his bare chest. He jerked back, seething and red-faced.

Storming towards the elevator, he snarled over his shoulder, "Come the fuck _on _then, idiots!"

They stopped by Sato's room on their way downstairs, catching him just as he was leaving in his Incredible Hulk costume; Kirishima wanted to borrow a picnic basket, if Sato had one, and sure enough he did. If Sato thought there was anything weird about Kirishima's costume, he kept it to himself. Bakugo scowled at the picnic basket for the rest of the elevator ride.

Downstairs, a few of their classmates remained in the common area, while some had already left to gather at the school gates. Deku and his two stupid friends were still there, plus Todoroki. Deku was in some sort of ghost costume that somehow _wasn't _a bedsheet with eye holes cut in it; Uraraka was a witch; Iida was Frankenstein's monster; Todoroki was a vampire, and looked so profoundly uncomfortable to be alive that it made Bakugo feel perfectly at home in the shit he was wearing by comparison. Not a particularly creative bunch, those nerds.

"Kirishima!" Deku greeted them, looking startled. Everyone in the common area was staring at Kirishima, all with expressions of bewilderment or amusement. "A-ah, cute costume!"

"Shut the fuck up, Deku," Bakugo snapped across the room. "Don't encourage him."

But Kirishima was pleased, raising a hand to wave back at Deku. "Thanks Midoriya, yours too!" _Ugh_.

No one really bothered to make much of a comment on Kirishima's costume, except for Jirou, who was in some frankly really impressive bloody zombie makeup that made Sero's zipper face look like child's play. Jirou leveled a fairly neutral expression at Kirishima, then slid her gaze over to Bakugo, appraising. She scratched her nose, and then pointed at them.

"So, like, Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf?"

There was a beat of silence. Then Sero and Kaminari fell out: "_It's a couples costume!_"

Kirishima let out a startled bark of a laugh, one that started off like "hah!" and then quickly turned into "oh shit!" when Bakugo's fists went up in flames.

"DON'T YOU FUCKERS START!" Bakugo exploded on all of them in the room. "His stupid ass is Crimson Riot in a fucking dress as far as I'm concerned! This was not a coordinated effort, so shut your fucking mouths!"

"Let's go or we'll be late, everyone!" Iida fussed by the front door, gesturing idiotically for everybody to come along. Kaminari and Sero vaulted over the couch and rushed through the door, snickering, before Bakugo could come through on the threat his smoking palms presented. Bakugo still needed a target for his rage, but when he made eye contact with that fucking instigator Jirou she didn't react, and Yaoyorozu gripped her wrist and pulled her along after the others.

Bakugo seethed and turned his attention to Kirishima, who had the nerve to smile at him and flash a double thumbs-up. Bakugo hated him and also himself more than anything on the planet Earth. He wanted to snatch that ridiculous picnic basket off his elbow and beat him to death with it.

Instead, all he did was yell, "The hell are you smiling at, Shitty Hair? Get a move on!" and shoved him ahead of himself and out the front door, into the darkening evening. Kirishima only laughed.

They all asked and giggled about Kirishima's costume on the trek across campus to the front gates, so Bakugo had to hear Kirishima recount his dumb fuck-up again, and when Ashido beamed, "Did you know about this ahead of time, Bakugo?" he snapped, "_No, I didn't know about this stupid shit!_" which only made everyone laugh again. He would have stormed ahead of them and reached the front gates by himself, but Kirishima was chatting away, so he stayed next to him.

He could have told him to fuck off, especially since he wanted him to fuck off. He didn't _have _to walk with Kirishima, and he certainly didn't _want _to, not with Kirishima looking like that, with his legs flashing underneath the street lamps they passed under. Bakugo refused to look at him as they walked together, but he didn't take off without him, even though he could have, and wanted to. Fuck.

"Class 1-B doesn't have to patrol in pairs," Kirishima was saying, with his picnic basket slung back over his shoulder like his school bag or something, instead of looping it over his arm. The way he carried himself didn't fit the fact that he was wearing a fucking _dress_. It took a minute for Bakugo to tear his focus from how Kirishima looked to take in what he was saying, and felt a delayed spark of indignity.

"What? They don't?!"

"Nope, Tetsutetsu told me." Kirishima at least had enough pride to look properly disgruntled about it. "Didn't even hear it from Monoma. They still have a teacher supervising, but second years never do it in pairs. It's just our class."

"Bullshit! What the fuck?"

"Apparently we attract too much trouble, is what they say," Kirishima said with air quotes. "And like, I get it, I guess, with everything that happened to us last year—"

"_Bullshit!_" Bakugo raged. "None of that was even our fault!"

"Well, part of the Kamino Ward thing kinda was my fault—"

"Whatever."

"Still, it's like, come on, the buddy system? Really? After real internships and everything?"

"Right? That's fucking horseshit!"

"You're telling me, dude!"

They walked in companionable silence for a few moments, the noise from their classmates stomping cheerfully alongside them filling the air. Bakugo tried and failed to resist the urge to glance sidelong at Kirishima under the next column of light they strolled through, and saw him trying and failing to bite back a puckish smile, cheeks darkening.

Bakugo didn't want to know why he had that stupid look on his face, but he found out anyway when Kirishima said, far too brightly, "Think they'll let us pick who we pair with since it's a holiday?"

"I'm not patrolling a five foot perimeter with you dressed like that, asshole," Bakugo growled.

"Aw, c'mon!" Kirishima wheedled. "After all the work we put into coordinating our costumes like this?"

"Shut the fuck up!" Bakugo shoved him, face burning, his Quirk sparking on his fingers. "You think I won't kill you?!"

"I wouldn't put it past you!" Kirishima said, his smile so wide and bright and wicked it gave the moon a run for its money. His hands were rough and rock solid as they met Bakugo's, extinguishing the explosions like candle wicks between his fingertips, and for a wild moment Bakugo thought Kirishima was going to slide his fingers through the gaps in his own, bold and unashamed, what the _fuck— _but he was batting his hands away, deflecting as though they were sparring. He didn't give Bakugo time to catch his breath or refocus his anger before Kirishima _fucking _went, "My, what big hands you have!"

Bakugo wanted to fucking die, but he couldn't let Kirishima live either. "You mother_fucker_—"

Kirishima's laugh was a loud and impetuous "_haha!_" as they both took off in a run, Bakugo blasting after Kirishima's fluttering skirts, shouting wordlessly. Their classmates yelled behind them, laughing and whooping.

They reached the school gates in record time, huffing and puffing, where the other half of their classmates waited with a group of teachers. Aizawa looked mildly exasperated by Bakugo and Kirishima's breathless arrival, and did a nigh imperceptible double-take at Kirishima's costume, but otherwise didn't comment. Midnight thrust her cat o' nine tails at Kirishima with a hungry expression.

"Red Riot has become Red Riding Hood!" she cried. "Risqué! _Sexy! _I like it!"

"Knock it off, Midnight," Aizawa said sharply as Kirishima stuttered. "He's sixteen."

"_Super_ extra-extra credit to you, Kirishima!" Midnight said, ignoring him. "For your daring!"

"_What?!_" said Bakugo, as Aizawa said, "What," as Kirishima said, "I wouldn't call it daring, it's just, y'know, a dress—"

"Enough," Aizawa said loudly, cutting them all off as the rest of their classmates joined the throng. "Is everyone here? Listen up for who you'll be paired with, where you'll be patrolling, and your supervising teacher."

"I want these two under my watch," Midnight announced, gesturing to Kirishima and Bakugo. Bakugo bristled.

"_Nemuri_," said Aizawa, deeply unimpressed.

"Nothing uncouth, Aizawa, I promise," said Midnight with a devilish grin. "I'm nothing if not professional."

The two of them regarded one another evenly, challenging, for a long moment while Bakugo thrummed silently with rage, hatefully aware of Kirishima at his side and their classmates' amused eyes on them.

Aizawa broke eye contact with Midnight first, sighing irritably. "Fine. But you're taking the subdivision patrol." He tapped his finger on a well-worn map of the city surrounding UA, where a nearby neighborhood was highlighted in green. "Everyone else's patrol areas will be selected at random." He tapped a box of lots.

"Subdivision patrol?" Bakugo repeated scornfully. "So basically the bitch patrol? Babysitting a bunch of trick-or-treaters? Why even bother with this crap if it's not gonna be real hero work?"

"In my opinion, student patrols on holidays are superfluous at best," Aizawa responded dispassionately, "and tantamount to playtime at worst. Pro heroes as well as police officers everywhere are always patrolling double-time on major holidays. I've always insisted that throwing students into the mix is a waste of time. All of these patrols will be extremely easy, not just yours." He frowned at the rest of the class and shook the box of lots impatiently, spurring them into coming forward to grab a patrol area from it while Ectoplasm assigned pairs.

"In any case, your patrols are voluntary," he continued. "If you don't want this patrol, you're free to go back to the dorms. Just don't come crying to me about lost service hours later on down the line."

Bakugo ground his teeth together so hard he felt like they might shatter, but he said nothing. Aizawa was being a fucking prick about it, but they ultimately agreed on the fact that this patrol was pointless. But Aizawa was right—this waste of time still provided service hours, as well as two doses of extra credit towards grades. Bakugo wasn't going to give that up just because he was getting picked on with Kirishima.

As other pairs and patrols were being put together, Kirishima drew Bakugo's attention back with a pleasant "hey." Bakugo looked at him, and had to ground himself when Kirishima's intensely sunny smile nearly bowled him over.

"I forgot to say earlier," Kirishima said, earnest and looking over the wolf pelt that framed Bakugo's bare torso, "but you look _really _good, man."

Bakugo hated the sound he made. He _spluttered_, "I—what?"

"Your costume, bro! I mean your costume looks good!" Kirishima was laughing, and Bakugo could feel his chest and neck and face lighting up red because he could tell, he could _tell _that Kirishima knew he'd flustered him, god _damn _it.

"I _know _you mean my _costume_, fuck you!" Bakugo snapped. He would have yelled some more, but a weight fell on the back of his neck, gripping him through the wolf's hide. From the corner of his eye he saw Midnight at his elbow, her tits at his shoulder, and he scowled. She had him by the scruff of his neck.

"Now let's watch our language on this patrol, why don't we?" she said slyly. "We've _all _got to behave ourselves this time around. It's why Aizawa wants us on the subdivision patrol. Lots of little ones around."

"_Whatever_," Bakugo spat, knocking her hand away and putting some space between himself and her weird sexual vibe he wanted no part of. "Let's just go then."

"Bakugo, as much as I love to hear the word 'fuck' come from pretty young men's mouths, if I hear it from you_ in front of children_ one more time tonight, you can kiss your service hours and extra-extra credit goodbye, _is that clear?_"

This was Midnight, spoken to Bakugo in a sharp hiss on a blessedly—however temporary—untrafficked stretch of sidewalk in a cul de sac. She towered over him with her whip resting threateningly against the side of his neck where his pulse beat, which, like, what was she gonna do? Flay his jugular open because he kept cursing in front of kids? But her patience had waned dramatically in the past two hours, so maybe she would. There were only so many times, Bakugo supposed, that a teacher could hear a student shout "We're _not _Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf, all right?! He's Crimson Riot and I'm just a regular fucking wolf!" at children before she felt like she had to dole out punishment.

Still. Seven times is a lot of times to be asked by dumb little kids if you're doing a couples costume with your best friend, or whatever the fuck Kirishima was to him. Bakugo wasn't good with kids on a good day, much less this bullshit kind of night. Luckily, Kirishima was good with kids, which is why he was the one on the other side of the cul de sac under a streetlamp running damage control with the group of little girls Bakugo had most recently frightened. Midnight could have done that, since she was the adult, but she _was _Japan's very own R-rated hero, so even though she'd had the decency to shrug on an overcoat before waltzing into a residential area, she kept her distance lest parents of trick-or-treaters recognize her and got fussy.

Across the way, Kirishima patted one of the brats on the head, graciously accepted a piece of Halloween candy from her, and set off in a jog back towards Bakugo and Midnight. Midnight removed her cat o' nine tails from the crook of Bakugo's jaw with a warning glint in her eyes.

"Let's carry on, then," she said briskly, turning away from him and starting down the sidewalk. "I can hear a house party up ahead. Always good to give those the once-over to be sure everything's alright."

Bakugo let her walk away and waited for Kirishima to reach him. The moron had already unwrapped the lollipop he'd been given and stuck it in his mouth.

"Took you long enough," Bakugo harrumphed when Kirishima fell into step beside him. "The waterworks on these kids, god damn."

"On who? That girl? Nah, those tears dried up real quick," Kirishima said happily. "You didn't scare her nearly as bad as I thought, dude! She reminded me of you, jeez."

"How?" Bakugo demanded.

"Smartass kid had a lot to say about my dress, for one." He pointed his lollipop at Bakugo, who didn't like to look at how it glistened. "But I got to tell her anyone can wear a dress, not just girls, and to not make fun of boys who might wear them, because if someone makes fun of something for being meant for girls, then what they're really laughing at is girls, not the thing itself. There's nothing wrong with being a girl." He gestured with his lollipop again, waving it in the air. It was going to attract gnats. "They're little girls, and already feeling like girly stuff is bad and stupid. Gotta let 'em know it's not."

"Well la-di-fuckin'-da, listen to you, Professor Gender Theory," Bakugo sneered without much venom, which made Kirishima throw his head back and laugh.

"That kid even asked if I was gay, and _that _made my night," Kirishima cackled. "Six years old _maybe_, going around asking strangers that, can you believe it?"

"Brats like that? Yeah, I believe it," Bakugo scoffed. He surveyed Kirishima from the corner of his eye and (badly) schooled his voice when he asked, "What'd you say?"

"I said yeah," Kirishima replied with an equally piss-poor attempt at nonchalance, so at least Bakugo wasn't the only one who was embarrassingly transparent tonight, "and told the rest of them to have fun and be safe and have a good night."

Bakugo snorted, and they continued down the sidewalk, the soles of their shoes scuffing loudly on the concrete. They were walking slowly, not making an effort to catch up with Midnight ahead where more trick-or-treaters milled about and where colorful lights flashed in time with a thudding bass on one house's front lawn. The silence stretched between them like a quivering soap bubble, ready to burst and splash them both.

"You knew that, though, right?" Kirishima asked, popping the bubble, the casual tone in his voice sounding a little more natural this time. "About me."

Bakugo bristled, being put on the spot like that, with _this _conversation. He'd had his suspicions since camp last year, but made a point to not fucking care either way. The confirmation made his stomach leap nonetheless, which pissed him off. "I guess so. Who gives a shit?"

"I do." Kirishima stuck his lollipop back in his mouth, finally. It clicked against his teeth. "For real though, the costume screw-up was a total accident, and you with your costume—sorry if people are making you feel weird about it."

"I don't feel weird about it," Bakugo said defensively, which was so plainly untrue after the near-constant fit he'd been pitching all night that even he winced at the audacity he had to protest. He looked like a fucking dumbass.

"Dude. _Bro_," Kirishima said immediately, not letting Bakugo get anywhere close to away with that fucking lie. Bakugo growled at him for it, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He shoved them into his pockets and kicked at the sidewalk.

"_Other people,_" he bit out, honesty being dragged kicking and screaming and furious from his chest as he said it, "aren't making me feel weird about the dumb shit we're wearing."

They had passed through a sickly orange puddle of light from a street lamp, and the next one seemed miles away. The bustle of the neighborhood was elsewhere, leaving them isolated in the darkness. Bakugo suddenly felt claustrophobic, caged in too close to Kirishima by the night, but Kirishima had stopped walking, and so he stopped too.

"But you do feel weird about it."

"Yeah, 'cause it looks good," Bakugo snapped, and immediately changed his mind about the darkness because he didn't want to think about what his own face looked like at this moment in time. "Your stupid fucking dress. It's not—I don't give a flying fuck about the costume, it just. Looks good. On you. I hate it."

Kirishima's laugh was unsteady and a little high pitched. "Hate it, huh?"

Bakugo glowered at his figure in the shadows and said nothing.

"Hey, Bakugo."

"What."

"Come here for a second."

"No," Bakugo refused, on reflex and on principle, mulish and stupid with the rushing in his ears.

Kirishima laughed again, but it sounded better this time. Less hysterical, but still nervous, and genuinely amused. "Don't be a baby. C'mere."

Bakugo went to him. The orange streetlight a few meters behind them only lit up Kirishima's hair from the back, and kept his face washed out and shadowed. Kirishima reached out and touched his arm, carefully, experimentally. Bakugo let him, watching it happen as if he were hovering a few inches to the left of his own body, but feeling Kirishima's fingertips down to his bones.

Kirishima's other hand came up to settle on the juncture of Bakugo's neck and shoulder, slipping underneath the layer of wolf pelt that dangled over his shoulder. This was Bakugo's costume—no shirt to serve as any sort of buffer whatsoever. It jolted him back into his own skin. Kirishima was touching him in the dark, and something was going to happen.

Bakugo reached up and took hold of the little white stick poking out from between Kirishima's lips. He pulled the lollipop out of his mouth. Kirishima grinned, teeth stained pink by cherry sugar, and Bakugo couldn't close his eyes because he wanted to watch when Kirishima stepped right into his personal space. He half expected him to ghost his mouth over his lips at first to test the waters, but Bakugo hadn't befriended Kirishima for being _tentative_, and anyway, Kirishima's hands on his bare skin had been the test. He'd gotten Bakugo's permission, so he brought both hands up to hold Bakugo's head in place as he leaned in and kissed him hard and full on the mouth.

He was seventeen and it was his first kiss and he didn't know what to do with his hands or his mouth, but it probably wasn't Kirishima's because he did know what to do. Bakugo was loath to feel like he was being led, but the push of Kirishima's mouth and the slide of his fingers through the hair at the nape of Bakugo's neck had enough force behind them to feel more like a challenge. That sensation and thought sent a familiar blaze of fire up Bakugo's spine, and he couldn't help the arrogant smile that quirked his lips underneath Kirishima's; he gripped Kirishima by the shoulders, heard and felt him smile and go "_heh_" into his mouth, and Bakugo kissed him back. They pushed at each other like this, smirking and kissing mostly close-mouthed—until it wasn't, and one of them sighed just enough, and Bakugo felt sharp teeth on his bottom lip.

His hand slid up from Kirishima's shoulder and around the back of his neck, gripping tight, as he leaned into it hard, tongue pushing forward. Their chests brushed together, rocking Kirishima back a step. He heard him inhale, felt his hand grasp tightly in his hair. Bakugo's tongue slid over the ridges of his teeth and—

"Ow, what the fuck," he muttered, abruptly disengaging, red-faced. The cut on his tongue throbbed and bled a little.

"Sorry," Kirishima said breathlessly, wide-eyed and still holding fast to Bakugo's hair. They stared at each other, breathing each other's air noisily. Bakugo wanted to say something snarky, but he wanted to dive right back into Kirishima's bear trap of a mouth even more.

Something cracked behind them. Bakugo gave himself whiplash twisting his neck to see what it was without letting go of Kirishima. Midnight stood a ways behind him, illuminated by the next street lamp and grinning ferociously at them. Her whip dangled near her hip.

"There we go, boys!" she announced with perverse pride. "_Super_ extra-extra points to you as well after all, Bakugo! Shall we continue our patrol?"


End file.
